


Yours, Mine, Ours

by Serendipintea



Series: Female Stiles Stilinski [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, F/F, F/M, M/M, Rule 63, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serendipintea/pseuds/Serendipintea
Summary: “Okay, we should talk more too.” she watched as he put the two babies in their rockers and joined him in the kitchen where she practically drooled at the smell of the soup he had made. “You made me chicken soup,”“It’s Tikka Masala, you neanderthal.” he huffed.“It looks delicious, and almost like chili, but it smells wonderful and you made me chicken soup.”“Just eat, Stiles.” he rolled his eyes when she cheesed at him, then rose a brow in question when she took a spoonful and groaned in appreciation.“Marry me.”“Later dear, eat your soup.”
Relationships: Braeden/Derek Hale, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Theo Raeken, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: Female Stiles Stilinski [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539316
Comments: 5
Kudos: 233





	Yours, Mine, Ours

The baby smell was hard to miss, especially for werewolves and their super enhanced sense of smell. Erica, for instance, had three children and almost always smelled of toddler. The smell of magic, too, was almost always around considering Isaac’s aunt, Ariadne, was a witch and often sat in on pack meets to offer her services whenever necessary. For these reasons no one reacted until the front door was opening - seriously, they couldn’t even hear their footsteps over the chatter - and everyone comically froze in equal parts shock and alarm. 

Entering the loft - Derek’s old one which had since been refurbished and updated to be a pack safe house and where they often held their pack meets - was none other than one Stiles Stilinski. She looked haggard with her bark brown hair resting in a half-hazard bun atop her head with strands escaping rebelliously to brush against the pale expanse of her neck. Her eyes, too, were black and slightly swollen, as if she hadn’t gotten very much sleep and had spent a majority of her free time rubbing at them. There was also the fact that she came in sporting sweat pants and a low hanging T-Shirt with an over the shoulder cape like  _ thing _ resting behind her. 

It was the babies in a carrier resting against her back that prolonged the shocked silence, especially since  _ none _ had heard about her being pregnant. Uncaring or not noticing the change in dynamic of the room Stiles immediately beelined for the empty couch and brought both children to her front where she masterfully balanced the two on her lap. 

The way her spine popped as she sat and sank into the couch earned many winces in sympathy. Erica was the first to break the silence, though her red painted lips were upturned into a  _ very _ satisfied smirk that had  _ nothing _ to do with her very round very  _ pregnant _ belly. 

  
“Stiles, honey, you never told us you finally let someone take a stroll through your cabbage patch.” groans of disgust and incredulity sounded out, drawing Stiles from whatever mindless habit she had developed with her children. 

  
“That the best innuendo you could come up with, or is the pregnancy brain finally fu-” she swallowed hard and glanced down at the babies as the curse almost slipped past her lips, “finally turned yours to mush.” she settled weakly, shifting uncomfortably on the couch as her breasts began to throb and ache. 

Right on time Nathan, the baby boy with a curl of blonde hair on his head, began to cry out whereas the other baby boy with a dark black head of hair began to gnaw on her shirt around her breast. The werewolves get a brief hint of distress until Peter surges forward and picks up Nathan, rocking him gently as if he did it on the daily. 

“Best to feed the Changeling first, the more potent the breast milk they get the healthier they’ll be.” Stiles, having been unaware of that fact, thanks him sincerely and takes the cloak shirt bit, drapes it over her chest and the babe, and pulls her breast free of her sports bra to feed the babe, filling the air with soft gulping sounds and Stiles’s wince every now and then. 

“To answer your unspoken question,” she begins after a while, eyes barely open though they flick to every exit and entrance. “No one has been ‘dancing in my cabbage patch’.” she sighed and rested back on the couch, uncaring of the fact that so many eyes were on her or that she had just interrupted the pack meet. She was late, sue her, she wasn’t used to being a mother and had severely underestimated how long it took to change two babies! “I was busy sacking Edward when I found his recent victims. Phillip and Nancy McDaniels, they’re the real parents to Nathan, they were recently turned into vampires and didn’t want to live that life. They were my original contacts, they thought they were being watched and couldn’t prove it.” her scent turned inexplicably sad, which she quickly tried to right as Mattias grew a little restless and started gumming her tit. “They asked if I could take care of their baby, that they didn’t trust themselves and they didn’t want to live as monsters.” she didn’t realize she was bouncing her leg until she had to stop because her calf was cramping up. “They killed themselves, I found Nathan, only he’d already been switched by a fae with their own child. No biggie, whatever, so I super nannied the bit- the uh, the jerks, and told them I was taking both children back, that they were  _ both _ mine now. Long story short I either impressed them or annoyed them enough that they let me get away with taking both. They’re both mine now, congratulations me.” she yawned, then groaned when Peter put his hand on the back of her neck and drained some of the pain that had settled into her bones, all the while still rocking Nathan to sleep.

“Is this freaking anyone else out?” Liam asked, looking between Stiles - who was a mother now and  _ breastfeeding _ \- and Peter - who was acting  _ considerate _ and like a father and  _ was that concern he saw? _

“Mm, not really.” Erica hummed, then gasped as  _ her _ baby kicked at her kidneys. “Babe, help me up right now.” Vernon - who had been watching the interaction with a gentleness in his gaze that was  _ not _ portrayed on his face - quickly helped his wife to her feet and then to the bathroom. 

“When Cora was born dad was pretty much bed ridden and mom was really busy with getting pack alliances set up,” Derek Hale spoke from his perch on the second floor, overlooking the entire scene with a knowing smile and a devilish twinkle to his eyes. “He pretty much raised her, changed diapers, kept her from crying often, even knew what she was allergic to before mom did.” 

Peter would normally take all that as a compliment and smirk with pride, but not now. Not when Stiles was handing him a full Mattias and taking Nathan back and switching breasts so he could get his fill too. Derek hid a laugh behind a cough when Peter draped a towel over his shoulder and began burping little Mattias. 

“How  _ are _ you producing breast milk, Stiles?” the spark opened her eyes after they had closed and let out a guttural groan, as if she had been yanked from the precipice of sleep - which was a high probability - and rolled her neck - which led to more wince inducing pops. 

“Uh, Hedgewitch owed me a favor, she taught me the spell.” she looks up at Derek and gives him a half hearted chin-up wave, to which he rolls his eyes and makes his way down the spiral staircase. “I was actually gonna see if I could askifthe more energetic, wolfy members of the pack could help me get my shi- stuff, settled into my apartment.” she looked to Liam, the acting Alpha of the McCall pack, and Scott, the Elder of the pack - “that is, if you’re done with your meeting?”

“It was just a report, and everything’s much the same anyway.” Scott mused as he moved forward and moved behind his sister and gently undid her hair from the bun on her head.

“You can’t seriously think you’re going to live alone with two babies, right?” Erica griped as she wobbled back in, nodding appreciatively as Scott was working his way through Stiles’s tangles and putting it into a proper ponytail. It was when her eyes traveled to Peter that he felt his appreciation for Derek’s beta and the Kanima/Werewolf Hybrid that was Erica Boyd truly rise. “Peter will stay with you.” Maybe she thought of it as torture, or maybe the plain and simple truth was she knew his attraction to Stiles had spanned years without waning, or maybe there was another reason entirely. Either way, Peter was completely on board with the plan, regardless of the fact that Stiles had her selection of homes to go to or to buy - being a supernatural sleuth didn’t exactly leave one hurting for money  _ or _ favors if you knew how to play your clients well enough. 

“With Peter?” Allison chimed from her position next to her boyfriend Isaac. 

“Her dad is too old to help her take care of them,” and,  _ ouch _ , but yeah Stiles understood that. He was finally getting to enjoy retirement years - or he would in a month or so when Jordan won the election to be the new Sheriff. “Mel and Chris are still in the Galapagos,” the nurse and hunter made a surprisingly strong duo, what with him almost always getting injured  _ someway _ . At least he now had someone to patch him up, mentally, emotionally, and physically. “We’re all a couple,” and - okay, yeah. Scott and Theo were unattached by the tension between the two was  _ bound _ to snap at some point. Erica had fifty bucks that it was going to be in their shared counselors office at school, Lydia challenged her and said it’d happen in the coach’s office because it  _ always _ happens there. “Peter is the only one unattached and he obviously knows what he’s doing.” Okay  _ now _ he was puffing his chest a bit in pride, even if he was raising an eyebrow at the obviousness of her statement. “It helps that he’s loaded, and pack.” a development that kept him from going insane and had, over the last ten years, easily mellowed him out. 

“You can say no,” Stiles mumbled to him, uncertain. It felt like they were cornering him into it - and while she liked using that tactic on some of her tougher clients it felt wrong to do it to the once homicidal murderer. “I can always hire a babysitter or something.” he bore his teeth at that idea and held Mattias a little more securely against his chest - an action that actually stole her breath a little. 

“I have an entire condo, Stiles, and saying no is my speciality.” he eyed her very tired state and asked in a very suspecting tone; “How did you even get here, Stiles?” 

“Hmm?” Then, after a few seconds, “Oh, Jordan dropped me off. Your fiance says hello,” she murmured while looking at a very proud Lydia Martin. “And that he’ll do dinner tonight so you can finish a disservice?” 

“Dissertation,” she corrected, though her eyes were on her hand where her very simple, very loved engagement ring sat. “I’m reforming Eichen and trying to get rid of some of the devices and methods used there.” then, with her finger rubbing gently over the gold band “Jordan has been really supportive.” 

“Of course he is,” Braeden chimed as she slid behind Derek, arms wrapped around his waist. “Everytime I have to visit I hear him talking about how much he loves you, always asking for pointers on what things to get you.” She grinned and rest her chin on Derek’s shoulder. “The only thing that man has ever been silent about was your engagement, and even then he went from ‘My girlfriend’ to my ‘fiance,’.” she winked at the red head, “it was about time,” 

“Tell me about it, I spent a year showing him why he was wrong thinking that it was just him being a Hellhound and me being a banshee that drove us together.” she rolled her eyes and pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Stiles. “She’s right, stay with Peter.” ah, diverting the conversation and the attention, Stiles mused, there was the Lydia Martin she had known before she had begun traveling. 

  
“Okay, I don’t have much so I can just get it from-” Scott coughed and drew her attention to where he stood at the door. “Or Scott can get it.” He gave her a double thumbs up and walked out after putting the address into his phone's GPS. “I still need to get Roscoe,” Theo stood, told her to tell him where  _ the death trap _ was. “Okay,” she looked to Peter, a little astounded and floored with the immediate reaction and acceptance. She hadn’t expected to be turned away, per se, but it’d been ten  _ years _ since she had last stayed in Beacon Hills for more than a week. Ten years of ten minute phone calls every other week or every other month - most of which ended early because of a client or accident happening. Ten years of only getting brief packets of information on her friends and she was still treated like pack despite her long time away. 

“Hold them both,” Peter mused as he placed Nathan - now also burped  _ and when did he take her child from her arms without her knowing? _ \- in her arms. With a wolfy grin he bent, slid his arms underneath her shoulder blades and knees and  _ hefted _ her into his arms, against his chest, tilting her  _ just so _ , cradling the babes against his chest and hers, preventing them from falling. 

Stiles was immediately struck by how strong Peter was, how caring he was, and how  _ amazing _ he was. Ten years practically didn’t  _ touch _ him in the looks department but have done wonderful healing to his mentality and personality. 

“See, if I was her and you did that to me? We’d be fucking.” Stiles snorted, then outright laughed when there was a soft ‘Fwump’ and a heated, “Take me home  _ right now _ .” from a very aroused Erica. The two dashed past Peter and Stiles, Boyd cheesing like a maniac whereas Erica was staring at her husband as if she could eat him alive. It wasn’t until he stopped in the garage and stared at his car with a frown that actual coherent thought entered Stiles’s head again. It took three glances between his very nice very  _ expensive _ car that she realized what was stopping him. 

“Oh my god,” it was amazing to see Peter Hale - a man she had witnessed try to kill her best friend who had been a teenager at the time - stare at his car and stop because  _ it wasn’t safe for babies. _

“I wasn’t concerned with safety when I bought it,” he murmured, searching to see if he could materialize a way for it to be automatically safer. “Just that it was  _ expensive _ .” 

“Peter,” he hummed and looked down at her only when she tapped his chin. “It’ll be alright for a ride to your condo, I’ve baby seats in Roscoe.” he squinted and debated telling her she couldn’t drive that death trap with both of the babies in it, at least not until he had it fixed - which was going to happen if she thought about driving it after she saw his condo - but ultimately settled against it and conceded her point. He was only a little relieved when he lowered her to the floor and she immediately shimmied into the backseat with the babes. 

If he was a growly, observant mess on the way home, well it was a good thing Stiles was sleepy cause she couldn’t make fun of him for it later. When he pulled into his Condo he wasted no time piling the sleeping woman and babes into his arms and riding the elevator all the way to his penthouse master suit and - though he had two other rooms in the large space - placed the three of them on his King Sized Mattress, swaddling each babe in a nest of silk sheets that he was already planning on replacing. One look at his apartment - titled bachelor pad that wasn’t actually one - and he set to work. 

Three hours later Stiles woke up to throbbing breasts and a back pain that could only be explained by the super soft bed she was currently in. Living night to night on whatever surface happened to be the most clean had become a norm to her, especially since she had to essentially backpack it all across Greece and Thailand hunting down supernaturals that had become too murderous to let live. She noticed immediately that both of her children were surprisingly still deep asleep and swaddled in an oval of soft  _ silk _ sheets. 

The silk clearly was what both babies needed, maybe they had sensitive skin and Stiles just… didn’t know it? 

God, she was a terrible mother. 

“Whatever sour thoughts you’re thinking,” Peter mused lowly from the doorway as he strolled in, “stop. You’ve always been clever Stiles, if you don’t know then just  _ ask _ .” his eyes flicked to her then roamed over Nathan and Mattias before he slid into the double door walk in closet and went out of sight. Peter had always been calling her clever, especially in her teenage years. She had often thought he was making fun of her, but when her portion of her and Scott’s plans always worked he gave her a look that always made her squirm. 

It was a proud, dark look that shouldn’t have made her feel so damn elated and proud in return. Hearing it now, though, as she was facing this - unexpected but not unwelcome surprise… 

It settled something in her. She was Miecyslawa Genim Stilinski, a mother fucking powerhouse and a Spark - a being of pure, magical energy that was a total badass supernatural detective. She had survived Braeden’s absolutely fucking brutal training for two years and had spent her entire teenage years doing the impossible. She could raise two children!

“I’ve already baby proofed the house, Scott brought your things over earlier.” Peter told her as he walked out of his closet, sporting a fresh pair of clothes folded over her arm and a towel that looked stupidly fluffy. “I’ve ordered new cribs and ordered formula for Nathan once he gets off breast milk.” he extended the clothes to her and tilted his head to the side, taking in her haggard - and now slightly better rested - features. “I’ll watch the kids, take a shower Stiles.” 

  
“But-” 

“Your back is especially tight and your lower back was where damn near all your pain was,” his tone brokered no argument. “I have jets in my shower,” of course he did, rich bastard. “Stiles.” she did not like the way he sighed her name, not at all, especially not when he centered his sea blue eyes on her and pinned her with his gaze. “You need to rest too, you don’t have to take care of them all alone, let me help.”   


God damn him for trying to guilt her into it, especially since it was working. He  _ clearly _ wanted to help and strangely enough she knew she could trust her kids to his care - which, c’mon, he was a murderer and she trusts him with her kids? She did, though, especially since his eyes slid over the kids as they slept. 

“All right,” she almost missed the way his eyes widened in surprise at her relenting. “Where-?” 

“Past the kitchen, I’ve got the door open.” he sniffed and looked away, “I replaced your shower supplies with better ones.” 

“Of course you did,” she laughed softly as she left the room, unknowingly making him grin at the sound. It didn’t surprise her that the shower was ridiculously big, nor that it had front, back, and  _ roof _ jets as well as a regular shower head - and it looked like the prick had a big ass cast iron tub. Her stand up tub was folded in the corner though, so that, at least, touched her heart. 

The shower, however, made her consider marrying him or killing him so she could have it for herself. Not only could you adjust the temperature of each set of jets, but you could adjust the strength and pattern of the jets. It was the first  _ good _ shower she had in awhile, the first one where she let herself actually relax and not be on edge, ready to run the moment she heard crying. She spent fifteen minutes in the shower, longest time by  _ far _ , and felt like a completely different fucking person when she left the bathroom, dressed in a pair of soft clothes that Peter no doubt replaced some of hers for. 

It was the first time she got to look at the suit too, so she took her time getting back to the room and settled with looking over the place and clutching the clothes she had changed out of against her chest. The cabinet doors were already safety locked and the knives were pushed far back onto the counters, each with their own little sleeve. The view, too, was amazing. Beacon Hills had many and, somehow, Peter found a condo with a view of the Reserve - which was over 50 miles away. 

“There’s a hamper in the bathroom,” she startled and hurried to catch the clothes she had let go of and forced herself to relax from her offensive posture - a habit she had developed to keep herself safe, only to nearly drop them again at the sight of a grinning Peter holding two babes in his arms as if it was what he had been born to do. “While I would  _ love _ to know what  _ that _ smell is, we should talk over a few things.” 

“I love your shower,” she blurted before he could continue, “Marry me?” 

“Tempting, sweetling.” his brows were up to his hairline and his lips were quirked in a grin as if he hadn’t been expecting that but hadn’t been entirely adverse to it either. “I have two other rooms, I set some of your things up in the one nearest the living room.” she clutched lamely at her clothes as she followed after him, painfully aware that he was keeping both children in his arms, rocking them gently. “Its a smaller bed, but it's one you can set the cribs up around without them being out of reach.” which meant a lot and showed that he truly did understand. 

“Why are you really doing all this, Peter?” there had to be another reason, right? There had to be something he was getting out of this, no one - not even she - did things just to be nice anymore (even her pro-bono cases ended up with a favor being owed). It seemed he needed to think the question over too since his brows were furrowed in thought while he put both children in their very nice cribs. 

“I like you, Stiles.” In the past that hadn’t been flattering but now it was almost sweet. “I like children, teenagers not so much, but I like babies especially.” he brushed a few strands of Mattias’s hair from his ears and grew impossibly soft when he reached out a little hand and grabbed at Peter’s pinky finger. “The Hales were always known for being a big family, they used to say we popped kids out like rabbits. Because of my, ah,  _ questionable _ past-” his smirk turned awry, “- the pack doesn’t necessarily trust me around their children.” 

Stiles could understand why they wouldn’t - partially, but seeing him now, staring at Mattias with a softness that had her nearly falling in love on the spot? Seeing how caring he was and how he was obviously taking into account baby and mother needs? Seeing all that she had no idea how they  _ wouldn’t _ trust him with their children. 

“You want children.” he turned to look at her and pinned her with the heat that circled in his eyes. 

“Yes.” the only answer she could give was to swallow thickly at that - and rush to Nathan’s side as he began to get restless. 

“I’ve taken any iron that I could and locked it up, what couldn’t be moved is sealed and covered up. It’s not as poisonous to them, but it can still make them sick.” he brushed strands of hair off his ears and rocked back on his heels and stood. “I also restocked our fruit and bought organic baby food for once they’re off formula.” 

“Does Organic matter?” he nodded. 

“Yes, Changeling’s are still fae, they need nature otherwise they get sick or weak. Organic foods will keep them healthy and strong, it’s also just a good practice in general and won’t hurt Nathan at all.” he shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, watching as she bounced Nathan in her arms. “He’ll mature faster than Nathan. Mentally,” he quickly added once he saw the concern dance across her face, “he’ll know what he is before he learns how to talk.” 

“I was planning on telling them about the supernatural world anyway,” he relaxed at her confession, “I won’t keep them out of the world they’re already a part of, not when I can help them learn safely.” she winced as her breasts throbbed and instinctually put a sleeping Nathan back into his crib and picked a stirring Mattias up only to pause in her action of pulling down her shirt to feed him. 

“If you’re shy I’ll turn my back,” she wasn’t, but she’d received many comments about her breastfeeding already and had suspected some type of comment from him. Stiles was learning that she really should change her perspective and expectations of Peter. He nodded in approval when she sat on the bed and pulled her shirt down, feeding Mattias with - surprisingly - no awkwardness. “He’ll have abilities too, most times it’s telekinesis or telepathy, very rarely is it both.” 

“I can actually help him with both,” her relief was palpable. “I know that Nathan is starting to show a resistance to magic. It's not much but I can feel it in him, it’ll most likely grow stronger the older he gets.” 

“It must be a side effect of his brother being a fae,” Peter mumbled as he left the room shortly and returned with a towel thrown over his shoulder. “It’ll be good for him if he does develop a resistance to it. Very rarely do Changelings ever have siblings and when they do they often injure their sibling by accident or have to hide what they are.” he immediately set into a tapping rhythm to burp Nathan while she began feeding Mattias, humming in a way that she knew Nathan could feel and - from his happy squeal - he liked. 

“I don’t want them to have to hide from one another,” her soft admission had him giving an honest to god smile. No, he very much doubted she would want to hide anything from her children. 

“Then we won’t,” if she minded him inserting himself in her and her kids’ future she gave no indication of it - a win he’d gladly take. Once they were both burped they brought the toddlers out into the open floor plan living room and put on a music channel. “What have you been up to this last year, Stiles?” 

“Mm, I was hiking around Greece for a few months, visited each of their forests and got to join in on one of their festivals. Then I had to backpack it  _ back _ to Mazowleki to get these beauts.” with closed eyes and a thoughtful hum she sank back into the couch, cradling both boys against her as the classical music danced through the suite. “Then I had to hoof it to Puszcza bukowa to find Nathan and then Grushevka to turn in the favor owed and get the spell to produce breast milk - thank god the fae put like a spell on both children to give them any sustenance they needed for the first two weeks, I would’ve been screwed if they hadn’t.” she was unaware that he was now in his kitchen, listening to her and trying to hide how surprised and impressed he was with her adventures. “Then I went to Rozgirche to turn in  _ another _ favor to a spirit there who taught me a teleportation spell safe for babies and popped up right by the Nemeton.” she yawned, “been in town for about a week, managed to rent an apartment and get all the documents in order for them to actually live here and eventually get enrolled in school and things.” 

She had already planned for when they were older, when they would enroll in school and would need shots and medical things that Melissa and a doctor in the know with supernaturals would be able to take care of. She truly was a special type of person, his Stiles.

“Take a nap, Miecyslawa, I’ll wake you when dinner is done.” Her tired mumble and the shuffle of movement on his couch was the only answer he got, which he was partially glad for since he let her actual name slip and apparently no one was to ever utter it again, or say it, or pretend they even  _ knew  _ it. He sort of understood, Stiles - like all magical beings - were naturally cautious with telling people their names - sparks especially. It was the traces of fae magic in their DNA that drove this tradition so strong.

He wondered faintly if she named the both of them or if she kept the names given to them by those that had taken them. Nathan for the human and Mattias for the changeling. He could see her doing that, could see her valuing the magic of their names being given to them by their actual parents and honoring them by keeping their names set. It was as he turned to chop up the chicken that he caught sight of Stiles on the couch and appropriately froze in place. 

His couch wasn’t overly large but she still managed to look impossibly small on it, even curled around the two babes that lay between her and the back of the couch. She looked almost like a wolf mother, curled around her cubs and keeping them warm with her body. He watched the way her hair fell like a waterfall over the side of the couch, now shining with different shades of brown and cinnamon since it had been washed. He loved the creamy expanse of her back that peaked from her shirt, exposing the scar that Donovan had given her so many years ago. 

Not for the first time in his life was he both glad and frustrated that Stiles was not a wolf. If she was she would be able to smell the way he felt, would be able to pick up on small things that meant too much. On the other hand if she were a wolf she would no longer be a spark, it would be consumed by her wolf and nullified, and he honestly couldn’t see the smart mouthed little hellion as anything but pure magic. 

Before he could second guess himself he brought his phone up and snapped three pictures of the sleeping woman and stowed them away, keeping his treasure safe. It’s only when he sets the table and wakes her up that he allows himself to truly look at her. 

Children had always been a big want for Peter, or they had been before Talia had taken a good majority of his memories - you don’t just  _ forget _ that you got a girl pregnant and the nine months you spent doting on her and trying to convince her to keep the baby even  _ if _ it came out as a Werecoyote. No, when Peter tallied up all the memories Talia had taken or repressed from him the overall time he had lost was almost a complete year.  _ A year _ of memories, gone, a year of development and lessons learned and personality changes  _ gone _ . 

Yes, he was a murderer, that was true before he had even wanted kids, it was his job for the pack. Deal with any threat, by death or otherwise. He wasn’t necessarily a good person but he wasn’t necessarily a bad one either, sort of. Stiles, at least, seemed to have understood that lesson during the whole Ghost Riders phenomenon, especially since she had been the one to tell him about Donovan. She was no longer the defiant, sarcastic teen with few skills to speak of - though the skills she did have and the ones she developed were extraordinary compared to others. Instead she was a weapon of both mind and body, she had a control over her spark and her abilities that set her apart from so many others in ways that made him breathless with pride because he had  _ sensed _ that potential in her. 

Potential that was going to eat a hearty homemade meal that he had prepared because he would  _ not _ have her waste away and live off of take out anymore. “Stiles,” it shouldn’t be so hot that she woke up and immediately drew a closed fist towards his throat, as if she were holding a knife. 

“Peter?” she blinked the sleep away and hopped her gaze from her hand to his face and back again. “Sorry, force of habit.” he knew, he had heard the tale. 

  
“Dinner’s done,” he heard her breath catch as he leaned over her and picked both boys up, moving slowly as to keep them asleep, and forced himself to keep moving when he smelled the amber of her arousal wafting off of her. 

“Okay, we should talk more too.” she watched as he put the two babies in their rockers and joined him in the kitchen where she practically drooled at the smell of the soup he had made. “You made me chicken soup,” 

“It’s Tikka Masala, you neanderthal.” he huffed. 

“It looks delicious, and almost like chili, but it smells wonderful  _ and you made me chicken soup _ .” 

“Just eat, Stiles.” he rolled his eyes when she cheesed at him, then rose a brow in question when she took a spoonful and groaned in appreciation. 

“Marry me.” 

“Later dear, eat your soup.” it was… strange, eating with another person, stranger than cooking for two - he had to consistently make sure he was making enough for him and Stiles - and he was glad he made a little extra than what he originally thought because  _ damn _ she was tearing into it and  _ that _ made him content. 

“I’m staying in Beacon Hills.” she said as she prepared her second bowl, “I’ll raise them here, in Beacon Hills, the Nemeton will be good for Mattias and Nathan can learn a lot about the supernatural from his aunt and uncles.” she looked over to the sleeping boys with a fond smile that Peter couldn’t look away from even if he tried. “I was planning on coming back to Beacon eventually, settling down was always the plan.” she grinned and looked at him, “just never pictured I’d be a mom.” 

“You are an amazing mother, Stiles.” her brows furrowed and her eyes diverted down to her soup. “No one else would have taken both children, let alone knowing what Mattias is. You had a spell put on you so you could produce breast milk, which I doubt  _ anyone _ else would have done, and then you made it so that both boys would have a place in this world that no one would question. You could have easily taken Mattias, under the guise of Nathan, to an orphanage and left Nathan with the fae.” 

The silence after that was almost safe and contemplative, if only it hadn’t been for the growing discomfort of the two adults. Stiles was nothing like she had been when she was a teenager, but the fears she had as a teenager were ones that still existed in her mind. 

“I’ll cook,” she spoke after a while, trying to drag herself from her own memories. “I can cook sometimes, not well -” her grin was almost reminiscent of ones she had made in her past. “I could ‘magic’ myself into being a damn good cook, but I’d rather learn the hard way.” she shifted in her seat, still refusing to look up at him lest he see how surprisingly unbothered by the thought of cohabitation was for her. “Do you want to do a chore wheel or just-” she shrugged, “I mean I’m still not particularly clean but I’m organized, kind of have to be when you travel.” 

“A chore wheel will be impossible with you having the kids in your room so often. You’ll be up at all hours and you’ll have to catch sleep whenever you can.” and, well,  _ yeah _ but- “Stiles.” she snapped her head up at his tone and found herself at a loss. “Let me take care of you three.” 

“...I don’t know how to let someone take care of me,” she admitted through the block in her throat, unable and unwilling to look away from his stupidly handsome face and the way his brows were furrowing in worry and understanding. “But I’ll try,” she looked over to the boys still happily asleep in their rockers and smiled softly. “Thank you, Peter.” 

It was amazing how often he had fantasized about some of the pack saying those words to him and the snarky, confident replies he had prepared over the years for retort. It was startling that he found himself almost at a loss at her genuine gratitude when he was doing all of this for completely selfish reasons. He didn’t deserve her gratitude, but he wasn’t going to turn it away, not when it resulted in her being his in the end. They spoke easily after that and even managed to set up a game plan. Mattias would have to be weaned off of her breast milk after he was at least sixteen weeks whereas Nathan could be weaned off after eight, then they could both go on formula after that - though, in both cases it would be better to go from formula feeding to straight baby food. 

They both gained a general idea of what kind of food they’d have to have over the course of the next few years - and Stiles only faulted once at the thought of living with Peter for  _ years _ \- and even scheduled a visit to the Preserve and the Park both with the pack, with Erica’s kids, and then with just them. 

It was a week later of slowly easing tension, surprise wailing in the middle of the night, and general restlessness that Stiles surprised him by meeting him in the kitchen with a smile and two levitating children that were trying to grab at levitating toys. 

“I’m finishing packing up lunch right now, figured we could go to the park down the road. It’ll be good for Mattias and you,” she popped the lid on the last container and placed it in the wicker basket she had covered up with a towel and extended it to him with a quirky grin. “Let’s go on an adventure.” it was funny how five words could effectively steal his heart and breath all in the same instance. His mute acceptance was all she needed before both toddlers were placed in their car seats and they were heading down to the parking garage, he holding Mattias while she held Nathan. 

He was pleasantly surprised when she brought them to a newly fixed up Roscoe - who, after his insisted inspection, passed with flying marks - and then they were on their way to the park while excitement built in their chests. 

“Okay, do you want the sash carrier or the seat carrier?” sash carrier worked best for Mattias and the carrier for Nathan. It felt… right when he strapped the seat carrier around her and placed little Nathan in it so he rest against her chest, between her breasts, and pulled her hair up into a ponytail so Nathan couldn’t grab the strands and tug. It felt even better when she helped him secure Mattias in the sash carrier and grabbed his wrist, excited to finally be back outdoors and in the sun. 

For many reasons it was nice for Peter too; the sun, the child held against his chest, the woman completely unaware or uncaring of how it looked as she dragged him through the park to find the  _ perfect _ spot and the fact that Stiles had decided, on her own, to include him. 

It took them almost five minutes before they were deep enough in the public park area that few people were near and the maximum amount of sun and shade were present. He let her unroll the blanket onto a patch of good, flat ground and then unrolled a softer, thicker blanket over top  _ it _ so the area had maximum comfort. Neither bothered with getting into the food first, too content with a babe - now out of their carriers - in their arms while they rested in the shade of the beach umbrella Peter had brought.

“This was one of the things I love about whatever new place I went to,” she began after a few moments of peaceful silence, laying against hardened sitter pillows that kept them at an angle so the children weren’t lying flat. “Just… acclimating myself to the flow of nature wherever I was.” he felt lost as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back so that it was in the sun, as if he was looking at a being he would never understand or figure out. Lost as only a man falling in love could feel. 

“It was good for your spark too,” and for that part of her that she kept secret from everyone. There had been a reason why Stiles never sat still or stayed inside for too long when she was a teenager, a reason he knew but hadn’t shared with anyone - it was the reason he wanted her for a beta, after all. 

“We’ll have to do this more often, maybe go old fashioned and get a greenhouse set up on the roof of the condo so we can have our own little park.” It was kind of amazing how easily she accepted living with him, especially when she said things like that. Things that made her presence permanent, things that meant she was going to stay; things that included him and meant he was welcome and  _ expected _ . 

“Yes, we will.” he agreed through a pleased rumble. They visited the park three more times in the span of a week and often switched between quiet evenings where the babes napped, where one of them played while one of them rested, or where they both played and both Stiles and Peter played with them underneath the shade of their beach umbrella. The visits became more frequent, lasting longer and often resulting with Peter driving them back home while Stiles rested with the tired toddlers. Very seldom would they argue - but boy did those arguments make up for the lack of quantity - and he was almost always left with a tension that told him he either needed to fight or fuck Stiles. Almost always he ended up driving to Erica’s and sparring Boyd - a practice that had become a habit for the muscular werewolf whenever he and his wife got into spats. 

Each time he would come back to Stiles greeting him at the door with an apology, some form of admission, a curse, and - more often as time went by - a hug. It was strange the first time she had surprised him with a hug, even more so when she held it until he wrapped his own arms around her and felt like he could hold on forever like that. Each little act of physical touch was like plucking strings from his old bonds that were still scarred and unhealed and healing them.

Now his suite smelled of her, him, and their kids in a way that told him it would take him at least a month if he wanted to get rid of her scent - as if he ever would. He found her things moved in more - some things she bought while she lived with him and others she had gotten that had to be shipped to Beacon Hills from whatever port she had found harbor in on her travels. She sometimes cooked and surprised him with a warm dinner when he had to leave the condo for almost a full day's time - he made it so that he was never away from her for more than a day lest something happen and she proved to be in danger. 

Her father had been strangely accepting of the living arrangements - something Peter was sure he owed Scott and Lydia for - and even Mel seemed to approve - after she finished doting on the babies and Stiles’s less tired but so proud smile for her kids. 

Chris, strangely enough, was one of the only ones to actually ask Stiles in front of him if she were sure about her choice in living with Peter. 

“For every reason you could point out why I shouldn’t I could counter with three for why I should.” and that had been that, strangely enough. Stiles had silenced any and all opposition that they faced with a single sentence, even Jordan - who had somehow taken up as a big brother type of position with Stiles - had given Peter a pass when he was certain the hellhound would give him the third degree. He had gotten the seal of approval - which was a strange but welcome feeling all in all - and spent a majority of his time during the next pack meet for a monthly update playing with little Mattias who was already starting to favor him over Stiles at night. 

Stiles jumped up in the middle of the meeting and stared, agape at an equally shocked Peter as feelings of warmth and happiness filled the both of them. “ _ Empathy _ ?” Stiles cooed as she rushed to his side, Nathan secured against her chest. “You just  _ had _ to say it was rare for a fae to have telepathy  _ and _ telekinesis.” Peter let out a throaty chuckle when she teasingly punched his shoulder even as his mouth dried up at the love he felt echoed from him and Mattias for Stiles the moment she entered Mattias’s line of sight. “Oh shoot, empathy - Peter I don’t know anything about Empathy - no wait, I - that sounds wrong I obviously know about empathy but not  _ this _ kind -” as usual whenever Stiles grew frantic so too did Mattias and all at once her frenzy of worry turned into forced calm as she and Peter switched children so she could rock him gently in her arms while talking to him gently. 

“I’m sorry, mommy gets worried easily, especially when it comes to you and Nathan.” she was unaware of the gazes on her and how silent the loft had gotten, Peter was not. “Empathy though? You had to be special just like your mama and daddy-” Peter nearly jumped at the hand that was laid on his shoulder only to find himself as equally blown away as the look Derek’s brows expressed. Mattias - she had to be speaking about him and her being his mom and dad, right? Most Fae reproduce after years of hard pregnancies and many lost to still birth, some rely solely on being born in morning dew, only queens are ever born through the laughter of a child - and even then it is truly rare. There are no male fae, only sprites - surely-

“If you’re saying he is linked to you and showing you how he feels then it is a form of telepathy that has mutated to become a bond of empathy.” Mason replied slowly as he made his way beside the bouncing Stiles and babe. “I read on it a little when one of my roommates turned out to be part fae. Basically he can form that telepathic bond with anyone he is bonded to - kind of like how werewolves have bonds - and can express feelings to them regardless of distance. Some were even able to share memories -” he smiled and wiggled the finger Mattias had grabbed a hold of. “Deaton had a few books on it too, ones I never got to. I can borrow them and give them to you.” 

“Thank you, Mason.” he grinned, gave the brunette a kiss on the cheek and made his way back to his husband. 

“You know how to get to the special area of my library,” Corey reminded her and greeted his husband with a kiss as he slid in beside him. “I recently had it freshly warded, recently had some stations for children put in too once Mrs. Alrick had her three kids and they all proved to be tk’s like her.” Corey - who used to be a very non-violent person - was now a young man who had spent the few years he and Mason had spent separated to get his life in order and find himself. 

He found himself in research and in creating a safe haven he wished he had been able to have when he was a teen. Thus, once he and Mason returned to Beacon Hills and got married he had opened up Hewitt’s Bookstore. It took him three months to easily outsell the other bookstores, buy their books, and renovate so his bookstore turned into a legitimate library like a bookstore. He had created a secondary and an underground floor for supernaturals and humans, one designated specifically just for and the upstairs that mixed the two. Many of his books that filled his supernatural section were gifted to him  _ by _ Stiles, something that tickled his husband pink once he had told him where the strangely informative books were coming from.

“That’ll be fun, just like the good ol days, right Scott?” said ‘were laughed as the memory of him and Stiles spending all night searching up any kind of evidence as to who the serial killer could be, only to be woken up by John as the two lay comically in strange positions, telling them they were late for school. 

“I think Peter will be taking my place,” he mused, “especially since Lacrosse season is coming up.” Theo huffed from his spot on the couch and stared at his cuticles.    
  


“Not that he’ll let me help with training, could guarantee that we crush our opponents and win but-” he shrugged and pointedly looked  _ away _ from Scott - who currently had his brows to his hairline. 

  
“We had this conversation?” Theo scoffed and rose from the couch and, with a second's hesitation, strode out the door. “Theo - wait - we never had this conversation!” Scott insisted as he walked after Theo, leaving behind a confused and amused pack. 

  
“Oh he’s good,” Erica praised, “still want to rip his throat out though.” 

“It’s been ten years, Erica.” Stiles groaned, knowing exactly why she wanted to murder Theo Raeken. 

“So? That just means he’s given me ten years to find ways to kill him and get away with it.” Stiles’s response was an eyeroll and a huff.

“I could easily kick his a-er, butt now, Eri, even if I didn’t have my spark.” Braeden snorted once several members of the pack looked to her for confirmation. 

“We spar for fun now.” and  _ that _ was a scary thought considering Braeden had only gotten more badass as years came and went. Many times John had tried to convince her to go the straight and narrow so he could use her to train some of his newest recruits, many times she had turned him down and ended up training new hunters Chris had gotten to join his families’ new code. It was amusing to see the rivalry that had sprouted between John and Chris in both their businesses and their friendship - especially since the two were like brothers in a way that neither got to actually experience. 

“I can  _ almost _ take you without my spark.” Braeden raised an eyebrow at Stiles’s haughty comment but said nothing else, much to the joy of her boyfriend. “You’re no fun anymore, that used to always get a rise out of you.” she smiled and faced the group again. “That was the  _ most _ satisfyingly sore I’ve ever been.” Derek and Ariadne both spluttered at that, though Ariadne ended up bursting with pearls of laughter whilst Derek was pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“That’s because you’ve never gotten to experience the  _ other _ kind of soreness.” Erica haughtily replied as her husband helped her up again. “I give you a week,” then, as if an age old tradition, looked to her husband. 

“A month, Stiles is pretty dense.” and, hold on,  _ excuse _ you? Stiles was  _ not _ dense and she knew that they were talking about being sore from sex and while no, she hasn’t experienced that in a while it’s because she had never found the  _ time _ . You  _ don’t _ sleep with clients and hunting down clues or other homicidal maniacs leaves  _ no  _ time to get your ‘boogie’ on. 

“You’re betting on how long it’ll take for me to sleep with Peter.” Peter adored Stiles when she was angry, when she experienced an anger that rivaled his whenever his life was threatened he couldn’t help but be drawn to her like a moth to flame. “How about you keep that little bet to yourselves and stay the  _ fuck _ out of what  _ we _ do.” and yeah, maybe her anger was a little zero to one hundred quick but  _ no one _ had the right to assume that Peter would do that with her when he’d already been put out enough. Even if they  _ did _ decide to do that it was  _ their _ business, not the packs or  _ Erica’s _ . They had only accepted him years after the Ghost Riders incident whereas she had accepted him  _ right  _ after. 

_ Yes _ she still left, there was nothing they could be. She still had to find herself and he had to deal with the revelation that came with his memories returning and the whole world forgetting you exist. It sounded almost like they were expecting him to take advantage of her and make her like him over time so she would sleep with him and that just - oh it irked her. It was something she could see old Peter doing, back before he got his memories back and back when he was murdering murderers and psychopaths and biting an innocent teenager while he was half mad. He  _ had _ done horrible things, but so had a lot of people. 

Anymore anger or replies were put on hold as the stench of feces filled the air. Stiles, with a few calming breaths and a kiss to the fussy Mattias’s forehead, grabbed her baby bag and made her way to the bathroom. 

“Now you’ve done it,” Scott grumbled from his position by the large table they had set up in the middle of the open floor loft. “Stiles isn’t dense, she’s just used to never seeing herself as attractive or femenine that it doesn’t register that  _ anyone _ could see her desirable in that aspect.” he sighed and looked right at the stoic faced Peter Hale. “The only people who ever experienced interest in her were Malia - which made her think she was butch, it didn’t help that her hair was always shaved to her head and people always made fun of her saying she was really a dude. Then Theo - who only wanted her for Void-” he shot a particularly nasty glare filled with slight jealousy at Theo for that, “and a homicidal murderer who wasn’t in his right mind and was constantly trying to kill me.” Peter didn’t react to that but knew he was talking about him. 

“When we got closer we tried makeup and dresses and heels. No matter how I did her makeup she always looked… constipated. Uncomfortable. Dresses and heels though? She  _ might _ have given me a run for my money at the highschool reunion - if she had showed.” 

Erica and Peter were silent the entire time, both too lost in thought about what had been revealed to them, and when Stiles finally exited the bathroom Peter had stood, grabbed her hand and his bag, and took her out of the loft. Stiles - who was calmer but not by much - followed him without hesitating. It wasn’t until they were back at home and the babes were back in their rocking cradles that she turned on him with raised brow. 

“The spell to look through someone’s eyes, use it on me.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Because you don’t think you’re attractive enough to warrant attention, physical or sexual.” he crossed his arms and stared at her, firm in this and unrelenting. 

“I  _ know _ I’m attractive, somewhat, to certain - is this because of what Erica said? You know she’s just - I don’t think you’d ever try to - not that it wouldn’t - Peter there’s nothing to prove.” a single brow rose at her but otherwise he refused to relent on this. She  _ had _ to know how attractive she was, how she single handedly took his breath away whenever he got sight of her smiling and carefree or how she looked as she held Mattias or how disgusting she looked when she looked sloppy yet  _ still _ managed to bewitch him somehow. He was done playing like he didn’t have any feelings for her too, damned if she realized he did and didn’t reciprocate but he couldn’t let her go on thinking that she didn’t hold a sexual attraction that drove him to the brink of his meticulous control sometimes. 

“ _ Fine _ ,” she sighed and recited the spell with a certainty she definitely did not feel. Thanks to her spark she didn’t necessarily need the other components for the spell and found the transition into his mind's eye with ease. She had only used this spell three times in her entire career as a supernatural sleuth, three times and each time was easily different from the last. The Vampire she had used it on could  _ see _ the underlying tones to peoples’ skin and could tell when they were sick or had bad blood flow. Humans were easiest, they all saw one another with aspects they either envied or hated. With loved ones they saw things that they adored and brought them comfort, but most always they saw things about themselves that they had distorted because they believed they were like that. Witches, too, could see little outlays of aura around certain people, it was why they were able to tell almost instantly if someone else was also supernatural or not. Werewolves, however…

They had spectacular sight, this man would never need glasses as long as he lived. And his perfect eyesight was centered… on her. 

On  _ her? _ There was no way that woman was Stiles. Sure, the mole dotted skin was hers, and the whiskey brown eyes, but almost nothing else looked the way she thought. Her corny vampire skin looked as if it had gotten a little sun and was smoother than she remembered. Her moles, too, weren’t craters in her face and body that she hated and were, instead, little spots of raised skin that almost looked like a constellation. Her eyes, too, were black from consistently waking up at all house to take care of the babies, but in his eyes they weren’t puffed up and saggy. They almost looked like someone had smudged eyeshadow underneath her eyes, only making her eyes that shimmered like Gold - like genuine gold now that she was using her spark - all that more pronounced. Her hair, too, stood out with glints of gold and cinnamon, black and brown all mixed in with her dark brown hair that almost looked black in the shade. It was tangled in certain places from a hastily updo but he still found it beautiful. 

He found  _ her _ beautiful, every scar she held he lingered on them with a fondness that made her throat close up. He adored the things about herself she had twisted or found disgusting. Her moles, her eyes, her scars that she had thought she had grown indifferent to. He adored… her. 

He adored her. 

Peter motherfucking Hale adored  _ her _ .

“You don’t just like me ‘cause I gave you a family,” she croaked weakly once she was back in her own body, staring through watery eyes that stayed focused on him. “You like…  _ me _ .” 

“Good to see you using that clever brain again, Stiles.” he chided, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. “I would have had to take back every time I called you clever if you had said the opposite.” 

“I would eventually do something to make you call me clever again,” she argued weakly, only just gradually aware that he was now right in front of her, a single hand at her cheek while the other lay at his side. “They are, you know.” his brow rose in question though he didn’t cease wiping her tears away. “They’re your family too,” his back stiffened when she grabbed his wrist with both hands and looked over to a sleeping Nathan and a starring Mattias. “They’re your family too.”

“And you?”

“Yes.” the question, while understandable, erupted a bit of righteous anger in her. How could she sit and say that they were a family and he ask if she was a part of that family too? How could he doubt her including him completely when he wormed his way so skillfully into her life and made himself a permanent fixture? 

Her anger didn’t matter because it was washed away by the feel of his lips on hers and the way he moved till they were chest to chest. God, kissing - she had forgotten how much she liked kissing, and Peter? Peter was excellent at it, coaxing, demanding, pressing and letting her press back.

Laughter bubbled into her throat the same time Peter began chuckling, warmth and joy and comfort all filling them and overpowering their own feelings of joy and comfort until both had to separate and look at a smiling, giggling Mattias. 

“You already knew mommy and daddy were being silly, didn’t you?” another giggle that led to him reaching up, demanding to be picked up and coddled. “You heard him.” Peter let her go and approached Mattias with her, unable to keep himself from touching her  _ somehow _ , especially not now that he had the taste of her and her feelings reciprocated his and she was finally  _ his _ .    
  


“How about a movie?” she cooed as she rocked him in her arms, “You can even sit with daddy and I promise not to get too jealous.” he garbled and grabbed her nose, smiling as if he had just won a prize no one else was allowed to know about. “We’ll let daddy pick the movie out, how’s that sound huh?”

Peter watched, entranced, as she rocked Mattias in her arms and found himself gobsmacked when she turned just so and looked at him, her nose still held by Mattias by pure joy and content oozing from her every pore. “What do you say, daddy?”

A silly saying that, at one point in his life, had been a major turn on now only evoked a soul filling contentedness. 

“I think that sounds perfect.” that night he held her with both children asleep on their laps, watching as she dozed peacefully beside him. It wasn’t until a good month and a half later that anything drastic happened, which - honestly - they should have expected it. Beacon Hills wasn’t as chaotic as it once had been, but even a half a year of relative peace was too much to ask for. 

Especially since the next disaster that decided to hit them was a surprise visit from  _ the _ fae on one of their visits to the park. 

“Hello, Stiles.” the fae greeted, most likely unaware of her actual name or unwilling to actually use it. Either way it filled him with a little bit of relief that she didn’t know it. Considering the fact that Stiles was handing Peter Nathan and stepping in front of him - who had originally stepped in front of her with his body turned to the side. 

“Althael,” she greeted pleasantly but with an air of detachment and civility that impressed and worried Peter. “Your human form is as gorgeous as your real form.” and it was; ethereal even with sun tanned skin and sandy blonde hair that looked like dripping gold. Althael took the compliment with stride but did not look away from the spot her actual child had once been. 

“The timeline of your original agreement has come to pass, a new deal must be made or the children both return with me.” 

“There was no timeline discussed when I took them.” Stiles argued weakly.

“You did not give a choice when you took the children, so I gave you no choice as to the timeline of your gift.” for that Stiles was remarkably silent. “You amused me and intrigued me with your ability to track our population, it was only recently that I found out  _ why _ you were able to do such a thing.  _ Sparkling, _ ”

“I never kept it a secret,” she said with a shrug, a hand instantly placed on his arm to help him calm down. 

“No, you did not. Now that I Know, however, and have seen how well you’ve taken care of both children, I offer you a choice. The children,” both, as seeing both erupted a longing in her chest that she had not been expecting, “Or your spark.” she smirked as if she had won a prize, “It’s a simple cho-”

“You can have my spark.” it was so instantaneous that the fae actually partially shifted in shock. 

“You - I will take it and it will be permanent, you will be missing a key part of yourself. You would be giving something away that is rare and -” 

“I don’t care,” Stiles said slowly, staring directly into the eyes of the fae. “You said my spark or my children, you can have my spark.”

“But - why?! You can have more children, it isn’t hard for your kind! Why give up something so -”

“For my children.” Stiles answered, calm in the face of the agitated fae. She even went and took a step towards the fae, a thing that was definitely a risky move. “For the record, Althaelia-” the fae gasped as her true name was said in a whisper, “- I was never going to keep them from you, either of them. I was going to tell them both about the supernatural, about what they are and what their parts in this universe are.” 

“You’re actually being honest,” Althael murmured, surprise and distrust seizing in her chest as warmth radiated in her temples from an unknown source. 

“That’s our son, Mattias.” she told her softly, stepping aside just slightly so she could get sight of the giggling babe in Peter’s arms. “He’s a telepathic empath with telekinesis.” A wet laugh escaped Althael’s lips as Stiles revealed that she had, indeed, kept the name Althael had given her child. 

“May I - hold him?” she asked, even as she felt the beginnings of Stiles’s spark draining into her and empowering her. 

“This is Peter, he’s been helping me take care of them both.” her smile was the only thing that coaxed him further, especially since his mind was currently racing with everything that had just happened. “He’s dad.” 

“The males of our species are very rare, they cannot mate and are unable to shift, but they are treasured.” she reached a trembling finger up and brushed it over the smiling babes cheek, chuckling lowly at the sight of his head of raven hair. “You’ll let them visit, when it’s time? Nathan has already been allowed entry and Mattias was born there.” she looked to Stiles uncertain if she could truly trust her word. 

“They were always going to know of you, Althael.” Stiles vowed, “Always.” 

“I believe you,” it was a rush as the last of her spark transferred to Althael, and yet all Althael could actually feel was regret. 

“You can always join us as we come to the park, I know fae don’t care for the city and we do come here often. It would probably do Mattias some good too,” her voice was steady, even if her grip on Peter’s arm was the only thing keeping her physically steady.

“You would let me play with him? Hold him?” 

“Of course,” Stiles scoffed, “he’ll still go home with us, but you can still have time with him while we’re here at the park.” 

“You are a strange human.” Althael commented with a small grin, almost as if she were finally getting it into her head that she was to be trusted. It was around a half hour of talking - mainly of Stiles filling in Althael in on Mattias while Peter watched the fae with suspicion and distrust on his face. 

It wasn’t until they were back at home and the boys were asleep that he grabbed a hold of Stiles’s wrist and dragged her into the hallway, shoulders tense. She was quiet - which he attested to being a symptom of her energy being drained - even as he paced in front of her, searching for the right words to say without completely snapping at her. 

“You just gave up your spark, you didn’t even try to find a middle ground or another way. She baited you into giving her something more powerful than any kind of magic I’d ever seen and you  _ did,  _ without hesitation.” 

“I did it to keep our kids safe.” a statement, a silent dare for him to challenge. “It’s just a spark, Peter, I’m more than my Spark.” of course she was but that wasn’t the point! She had so willingly given away something that was such a big part of herself, all without hesitation and he-

He didn’t know if he would do the same. He loved them, all three of them, but would he be able to give up what made him  _ him _ so readily, as she did? He didn’t know and that - that honestly wrecked him. “You would’ve killed her,” she told him so softly he almost missed it, “you would ruin anyone who would come after those kids, there wouldn’t even be a ‘deal’ to be had.”

“Is that what we’re supposed to tell them when they get old enough, that I’d kill for them?” it sounded awful, it sounded horrible and wrong -

“No, you’ve killed for less. You tell them that you love them so much that you’d live  _ for _ them.” she took the hands that he had balled into fists and placed kisses on his white knuckles. “You tell them that you love them when I’m not around,” a kiss and his grip lessened, “you tell them that you’d kill for them but that you’ll also teach them how to keep one another safe.” she ended it with turning over his hands and wiping away the blood from crescent mark wounds that had already healed. “You tell them that they make you proud and that they can come to you with anything.” her smile was wobbly and her eyes were watery but her words remained steady, even though her scent was particularly sad.

He had nothing to say in response, nothing that could even come close to the depth of emotion he had welling up in his throat. The hand on the back of her neck tilted her head up just the slightest bit so his lips could meet hers in a sweet, slow kiss that he poured everything he felt into.

Love was hard for Peter, always had been, but for her - for Stiles - it came as easy as breathing. He did, he loved her. 

“You’re such a sappy wolf,” she gilbed once they parted. His only reply was to sigh and rest his head on her shoulder, breathing in her scent and grounding himself from how turbulent and raw he felt. 

“Sappy wolf now, not Creeper wolf?” her hands ran over his sides and up his back, drawing a shudder and sigh from him, before finally resting over his shoulders and simply holding him close. 

“You can still be Creeper wolf, but right now just be mine.” the rumble that went through him was pleasant, as was the way he pulled her closer. 

“Already am, sweetling.” 

“I’m yours too, you know.” she said with a smile, “it's a tremendous honor, you know, to have me. I’m a catch, great personality, passable looks, and a total badass with any choice weapon.” 

“Stiles?” 

“Yes?”a grin.

“Shut up.” 

“Yes, Peter.”


End file.
